


Oh Well.

by scaredstarboy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (eventually) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Jealousy, Keith and Friends™ are growing up, Keith is all sass and no class, M/M, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Slice of Life, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, and then god said: let there be langst, and they realize growing up sucks, basically take any kurt travis song and make it about Keith's life lol, he also wants his best friend's ass, teens will be teens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-10-30 15:35:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10879764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaredstarboy/pseuds/scaredstarboy
Summary: Keith Kogane is simply coasting through his senior year of high school at a loss of what to do, who to be. All he knows is that he has his friends to get him by. Yet he feels like Shiro will up and leave their friendship as soon as they make it to the highlight: graduation. When it comes to Shiro, he's grasping at straws, but he won't stop because he can't. He's stuck. Has been stuck for as long as he can remember.Takashi Shirogane only wants the best for everyone, for Keith, but can't seem to own up to his own conflicts or tie his loose ends. He'll discover something about Keith and himself that could possibly ruin all that he has with the people he loves, but it'll continue because he can't stop. He's stuck. Has been stuck for as long as he can remember.





	1. Prologue: So There's This Girl...

**Author's Note:**

> My first contribution to the Voltron fandom! And of course, I'm spreading the love for slice of life AUs.

Meeting Keith Kogane was an experience Lance knew he would not get out of unscathed, and he realized it the moment he was forced around to meet steely eyes and a more grating attitude.

It wasn’t a wonderful impression. A crazy cute chick stole his attention, heart swiped the moment he laid eyes on her choppy silver hair and cosmic panache seated on a tattered sofa in some stranger’s living room at an obscure get-together he could never pass up (because obscure get-togethers entailed alcohol in his system and mingling with any sex and he was _all up for that_ ). She stuck out against the ochre corduroy and carpet stains and he could see a sheen of glitter dusted over her cheeks. And the vacant spot beside her had his name all over it. Sold.

“Well, _hello_ ,” he greeted as he moseyed himself onto the unoccupied cushion that sunk a little further than he liked, but he turned the charm up high over the blasting music. “The name’s Lance. Do you have a name or can I just call you ‘mine’?”

Her brows quirked up at his _smooth_ preamble and she rolled her eyes at him, a way of her humoring him.

“I’m Allura, so I’m certain that answers your question.” Her pacified smile was all the inch he needed to go the mile.

“Allura. _Allura_. How… _Alluring_.” She muttered an, ‘Oh my goodness.’ “What’s a babe like you doing by herself at a party?”

“Oh, I’m not alone; just waiting for my friend to come back.” Like that was supposed to keep him away.

He snuck his arm over her shoulder along the back of the sofa with an innocent gesture. “Another lady friend? I’d be pleased to meet her.”

“Well, the feeling’s not mutual.” Lance felt the piercing glare before he heard it, souring at the voice scorning him from his periphery. He glimpsed before double taking at the nameless guy with a tacky mullet, a _mullet_ of all things that he’d never imagined seeing in North Bergen, raining on his parade and putting all of his flirtations to a halt as said guy interrupted, dead-panned:

“The lady friend. _Hi_.”

“Huh. I thought you would be prettier,” Lance countered without much thought and with a grimace. Despite the societal atrocity he was committing with that mullet, and Lance couldn’t deny, there was no other word to suffice for how attractive this guy looked than pretty. Bordering on handsome, maybe, but pretty.

“She’s _taken_ , lame brain.” He ignored pretty boy in favor of Allura.

“Anyways, Allura, seeing as you blinded me with your beauty, I’m going to need your contact information. For insurance purposes—”

A hand gripped his shoulder and he was forced to stand to see Mullet’s face turned ugly with fury, smell the alcohol on his breath.

“I said. She’s. Taken.” Lance noticed how this guy’s hand bunched the fabric of his clothes and jerked his shoulder back with a scoff, returning the attitude.

“What, by a loser like you? Doubt it.”

“Keith,” Allura chimed in before Mullet could do any damage to his priceless face, unperturbed by the whole ordeal with her flip phone (who even uses those anymore?) in hand. “Shiro’s outside. Do you want a ride home with us?”

Keith seemed gradually more upset, yet all smiles for Allura with every word she said, hands clenched to his sides and out of the way.

“No,” he croaked, sounding small, not really looking at her. “I’ll stay.” And with that, Allura hopped up from her seat brushing past Lance, smelling like a flowery heaven, to throw her arms around Keith’s neck holding him closer and longer than Lance found tolerable.

“Be good, Keith,” she said sickly sweet with her cheek pressed flush against his. Keith looked at nowhere particular as he reluctantly returned the embrace, his hands an afterthought on her lower back and limp as she pulled away. “See you tomorrow!”

“Hey, where’s my hug?” Lance whined after Allura, receiving a not as sweet farewell from her. He was going to turn back to Keith and say something insultingly witty only to see him shove past dancing bodies towards the kitchen. Lance was not gonna let it go, trailing after him.

In the kitchen, Keith’s hand gripped the counter while the other poured him a generous drink in one of the many red solo cups littering the entire household and downed it.

“Hey, man, I got a bone to pick with you,” Lance started as he approached until he saw how Keith settled the cup back down with a little finality. In the fluorescent lighting, Lance could definitely tell that Keith was drunk.

His cheeks were blotched and ruddy, stare unfocused yet unwavering from Lance’s face when he told him, “Yeah, me, too.” Keith grabbed his arm and brought him to a niche-like hallway to the side and suddenly Lance was pushed against the wall, Keith’s hands curling into the front of his jacket, Keith’s mouth nipping and surging into his. It was so abrupt and completely unprecedented that it had Lance’s mind tumbling like an empty dryer. Finally recovering, he pushed at Keith’s shoulders, tearing away from the kiss, face heated and breathless.

“Dude, wha—?” He couldn’t even get his words out as Keith then ran to the door down the hall with him at his heels to see Keith on his knees and retching into the toilet bowl.

“Jesus Christ,” Lance breathed, holding onto the doorframe for support, witnessing the tears pricking the corner of Keith’s eyes when he started to hiccup and whimper with his trembling form slouched against the wall of the tub while holding onto the rim of the porcelain bowl where his head rested. He was at a loss of what to do.

Someone leaned into him and whistled.

“Man, what a shit show,” peering over his shoulder was Matt Holt with tousled hair nudging his glasses up the bridge of his nose and phone in hand, already making a call. “I’ve got this covered, dude.”

Which sounded more like: _You need to go_.

Lance stepped back, but lingered, watching Matt kneel beside a hiccupping, sniveling, heaving Keith and bunch the longer strands of his hair against the back of his neck, speaking to someone on the phone meanwhile comforting him.

The longer he stood there, the more uncomfortable Lance felt. He didn’t want to think any more of it and pinned it on Keith being an emotional drunk. A very emotional drunk. And that it was typically impulsive of him to behave this way. He decided it was high time he called it a night.

As he stepped out ready for the bop back home, a beat-up and worn red Chevrolet truck braked hurriedly onto the curb. Takashi Shirogane rushed out of the car, by him, and into the house.

That night had been well over a year ago. It was funny, Lance had thought. Keith Kogane was a disaster waiting to happen.


	2. A Nebula Blooms in His Chest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith makes it out of an almost-situation by the (good graces of Matt Holt) skin of his teeth on paper-thin lies.

_Now that there's something you can say is fair/The facts that lead you to compare/But not everyone is aware, there's something there/_

_There's something there/_

_there's something there/_

_there's something there._

* * *

 

Maybe if he kept his forehead pressed firmly against the text long enough, his brain would absorb the information via osmosis.

It was wishful thinking despite knowing how fucking absurd that was—Shiro decided to tell him so— but he didn’t care. The faster he learned this, the less time it would take for him to leave and the less he’d feel like he was infringing on any sort of potential intimacy between his closest friends.

“I just want this year to be over,” Keith groaned, eyebrows furrowing and crinkling the page. The words he could see were a jumbled blur and he couldn’t help feeling that it was preaching to him a representation of what his life felt like right now.

“You’re such a queen,” Allura giggled at him as Shiro pointed this out to him also. “The school year’s just started.”

“Hence the end of my life,” his muffled words died into the spine of the book. Shiro razzed, eye-roll imminent.

“Keith,” Allura’s kind voice prompted him to look up, glasses askew. Shiro snickered at the sight of his reddened forehead and plastered bangs and Keith pointedly ignored him.

“I believe you have nothing to worry about. Shiro and I can both tell you that.” 

He proffered the slightest smile at her and continued his note-taking.

Keith tried to keep his eyes to his work as much as possible and maintained eye contact only when Allura discussed a topic she wanted to fully understand or when he corrected any miscalculations. He didn’t want them to ask any questions that didn’t pertain to their study session and selectively tuned the couple out whenever the conversation deviated.

But knowing his luck, he couldn’t just simply exist within their proximity.

“Our last homecoming’s only two weeks away,” Allura reminded, a smile pressed firmly against the clip of her pen. “Keith, are you going?”

“Nope.” Keith chimed, deciding he didn’t have to look up, wanting it to end there, but he knew the motive behind her innocuous question.

“What? Come on. You’re just gonna leave Matt hanging? He needs a wingman, y’know.” He caught a glimpse of Shiro’s cajoling eyes and dorky smile and tried not to be swayed by his convincing aim.

“I don’t really do school events. _Y’know_. Besides, the after parties s’where it’s at.”

“There will always be a party to go to, Keith! There won’t be another homecoming. Don’t you want to make some positive memories for once rather than contemplating your bad decisions over a toilet bowl?”

“Get off my property, will you? I’m just in it for the ride.”

He noticed Shiro inching closer to Allura on their side of the table. Knowing Shiro had backed off (for now), he opted to look at his phone, an unread text message from Katie (possibly another meme). It’s been a solid two hours.

“I don’t know if my brain can process anything else,” he huffed, closing the book on his notes. And shoving his pens in his bag. “I’m done for today. See you guys tomorrow?”

“Is that even a question?” Shiro chuckled. He and Allura were huddled close with mirrored smiles and Keith felt his throat close up as she leaned onto his side. Shiro checked the time. “Actually, the place is closing soon anyway. We can take you home.”

Six Corners was a little ways from his house, but Matt’s house was merely a block away. He didn’t mind the walk. He knew what sitting in Shiro’s two-door truck made him feel when it was the three of them.

“No thanks, I’ll just go to Matt’s.”

“Matt’s it is then.” Shiro told him as he and Allura gathered their things.

“He’s literally down the street. Really. You don’t need to.” _Don’t do this to me…_

“I want to. I insist.” Shiro. Always the model Samaritan.

Breaking away from Shiro’s overwhelming gaze, he remembered to leave some bills for his coffee and slung his bag over his shoulder, mimicking their smiles as he left with them.

* * *

 

The Holts’ place was this red brick house cozied on 46th, only a minute’s walk from the café the three of them usually convened their study sessions. Keith couldn’t help annoyance prickling him as Shiro’s socialite personality invited himself in to catch up with Matt and his sister. Well, Shiro being Matt’s best friend was irrelevant when Keith just wanted to breathe for, what, a couple of seconds without feeling the need to hide?

He was rummaging through the Holts’ fridge for a soda can, frowning as the sound of Shiro could still be heard from the living room. His scowl deepened when all he could find was Brisk. All of the fucking Brisk. He shut the door, the sight of Katie suddenly standing there making him jump and clutch at his chest.

“What the hell. Why do you always do this?” She leaned in, hands on her hips, smiling wide.

“It’s not my fault that you’re always so blissfully unaware. Hiding from your boyfriend again, you coward?”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Kate, and I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He played naïve waiting for Shiro and Allura to leave, now digging through the pantry for the Doritos he knew Matt kept buried all the way in the back.

“He might as well be. You could always tell Shiro that you need more time for yourself. You’re not gonna hurt his _feewings_.”

“Could you not be so loud? Yeah, thanks,” he felt the crinkle of a bag under his fingers and pulled it out, souring. “First the Brisk. Now Cool Ranch? Really? You need to tell your brother to get better taste buds.”

“You tell him that and you’ll be banished from the household indefinitely,” Katie snickered.

“Okay who’s insulting me,” Matt entered the kitchen with Shiro following, obviously having heard the conversation. “Because I will definitely do some indefinite banishing, I can tell you.”

“You can’t banish me. I live here!” Keith held the offensive bag up for everyone to see, feeling betrayed. “I thought you were better than this.”

“Keith you’re the only one here who likes Nacho Cheese.” Shiro entered the kitchen to look for a drink like Keith had. “Right Shiro?”

“Debatable, but leave me out of it,” was all he said before pulling out a Brisk and popping it open, watching Keith mouth ‘ _traitor_ ’ in disgust as he took a long casual swig. “ _Delicious_.”

“Oh, my god my best friend doesn’t exist anymore,” Keith said forlorn and Shiro laughed in his face, finishing the rest of the can as he said it.

“Such. A. Queen. Anyways, I’m saying good-bye. Gotta take the princess home before her dad pitches a fit.” He waved before Matt showed him out the door and Keith could feel the weight drop from his shoulders. He saw Katie pointedly staring at him.

“What.” He stared back.

“Oh, nothing,” she leered, the tone of her voice clearly telling him it was definitely not _nothing_. “I don’t know if I should laugh at you or feel sorry for you.”

“I wonder about that, too, when people look at you and mistake you for a twelve-year-old.”

That wiped the look off her face in an almost satisfying way.

“Banished. Indefinitely.” Matt poked back in.

“Oh, did Pidge just—”

“Joke’s on you, Katie. Matt gave me complete amnesty of any consequence since we were thirteen.”

“I wouldn’t say _complete_ amnesty…”

“Dude!”

“Jokes, man, jokes. Keith,” he laughed. “I’ve got a packed bowl with your name on it. You can lick your wounds out on the patio.”

It was getting colder as the sun sunk low. Keith was glad that winter was creeping on them, appreciating the weather as they sat outside at a table. Matt allowed Keith to initiate rotation like he had promised and he could already feel himself warming up, leaning back into his chair after he passed him the pipe. It looked like Matt had some part of the universe trapped in the glass, nebulous and glittering when shone in the light. Keith felt slightly envious of it.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Matt lips parted from the glass, words welled up as he held his inhale.

“Oh, really?” He waited for Matt to expel the impressive volume of smoke that usually resulted.

“Nah, Pidge told me through sibling telepathy.” Matt laughed at himself, exhaling easily. He passed the bowl to his sister, who held up her hand to abstain. “One of these days,” he told her. She grinned, knowing that it wouldn’t happen anytime soon.

“Well, more for us,” Keith took it back, repeating the process.

“Seriously, though. I know Shiro’s your best friend and all, but you need to tell him that you have a problem with hanging out with him and Allura all the time. He’s my best friend, too, but it’s not my place to tell him.”

“I’m not with him all the time,” Keith muttered, flicking the lighter a few times before it ignited.

“Every time we see you, they’re with you,” Katie pointed out.

He took a longer drag than the last and sighed it out. “Coincidence. They’re my best friends.”

“We can tell that it bothers you, Keith,” She reasoned and Matt nudged his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You’re getting singled out by your best friends, you tag along, and you feel like you’re constantly interrupting their chemistry. And it bothers you.”

The solidity of the words coming from someone else for once made his chest tighten. It bothered him and it shouldn’t have. Keith knows that Shiro or Allura would realize if they were doing any of the things that Katie said. They’re his friends. His best friends. He likes being around them. And, god, does he hope that they feel the same about him.

“It’s no coincidence. No one likes being a third wheel, Keith.” She concluded for him.

_Third wheel._

“Do you think,” Matt paused, simply staring at him. For a while. Keith didn’t know if Matt was trying to piece together a sentence his sober self would approve of in his head or if he didn’t even realize he’d said something in the first place. “Do you think Keith might have feelings for one of them?”

He choked, throwing himself into a coughing fit he thought would never end. He thought he was going to die.

Or maybe Matt was just staring into him, through him.

“I’ll get you some water,” Katie left them alone.

Matt never looked away from Keith, searching him for any tells, although he already had. Keith felt that there was too much space out here. That Matt’s assumption could carry out into the still night and someone would be able to hear the words that could realign planets if they took them, realized that this possibility had been birthed into painful existence, and could be set upon the wrong hands.

“What makes you say that,” he croaked through the tears at the corner of his eyes. He felt small and the back of his throat burned with the phantom taste of blood.

“I didn’t think I was right, but I always had a feeling,” he told him, fumbling with the pipe in his hands. “I don’t know. I never was affected by their relationship like you are. But you. You encouraged Shiro and Allura to get together more than anyone. I don’t understand.”

“Shiro’s my best friend,” Keith reiterated, quashing the small, insignificant feeling. “He’s like a brother to me. That’s the way it is.”

“Well, your best friend hooked up with his p.o.i. the night you threw your first kiss away bawling your eyes out and dated her ever since. But. Hey. _Coincidence_.”

Katie came back, procured water bottle in hand, and Matt was a clean slate, feigning contemplation while Keith felt wrecked. It was like the atomic composition of matter inverted itself because for some fucking reason, the air in his lungs felt too solid. He couldn’t breathe. He absolutely hated the frank callousness that came to Matt when he was high. Matt might as well could have gotten up from his seat and knock the air right out of him. There was no difference.

“So you think Keith likes one of them?” Katie asked slyly, Keith’s shaking hands going unnoticed when he accepted the bottle. He struggled to twist the cap open.

“Dunno, Pidge,” he told her, sinking back into his seat, seeming to ramble as he made a grand gesture. “Just a small maybe in the great big world of actuality.”

“Ugh, with this again,” she rolled her eyes, amused. “Don’t listen to him Keith. He’s just planting ideas in your head.” Keith strained a smile when she looked to him.

“Mom and dad will be home,” Matt brought up, pushing himself out of his seat after he emptied the bowl of its ash and pocketed it. “You can stay the night if you want, Keith.”

Keith nodded. He had a terrible case of cottonmouth and all he wanted was to go to sleep. Matt held him back, however, waiting for his sister to head in first.

“I’m just telling you this, Keith, because you’re family. I really care about you, I love you, and as much as I want to scream at you and make you do the right thing, in my opinion, which would be to _talk to Shiro and Allura_ —just a _suggestion_ —and sort out your feelings— _another suggestion_ —it’s not my place to do that. You don’t want anyone to know (whatever it is. It’ll be rude to assume since what would I know?) because you think it’s for the best, and that’s okay if that’s how you feel, but it isn’t when it starts affecting you or your friendships with them. It can ruin what you have with Allura. And Shiro. And—”

Matt had to shut himself up when Keith started furiously wiping at his tears with the sleeves of his jacket.

“You don’t… You really don’t need to be hurting over this. You really don’t…” He grounded Keith with a hand on his shoulder. “Ultimately, it’s your decision, so this will continue to stay between us. Just be smart about it.” It was the anchor Keith needed. After he managed to quell the tears and put himself in check, they went inside, upstairs to Matt’s room without a word, avoiding Matt’s family. Keith flopped onto the futon, grabbing the blanket that was folded and ready at his feet, and pulled his phone out to send a last-minute text to his aunt before passing out.

He left Shiro’s message unread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, man. Keef, you're so transparent, it hurts.
> 
> I'm sure the tags I used appropriately indicate this fic has in fact and will have such pairings and interactions with so and so characters blahblahblah, so it's only going to go downhill from here for poor Keef. But I enjoy a good struggle for a happy ending.
> 
> And I've indulged myself with some headcannons. >:) I feel somewhat complete.
> 
> Also, it's an unsaid rule to name your car. Being the predictable person that I am, can anyone guess Shiro's pet name for his truck before the next chapter? :D


	3. The Science of Dealing...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith just wants the universe to leave him alone, Lance is being persistent, and Shiro thinks he's got Keith figured out. Maybe.

_“It’s when you hide things that you choke on them.” –Charles Bukowski_

* * *

Keith felt like the pure embodiment of shit when he woke up that morning, sinuses empty, the skin around his eyes raw, and his head pounding. He really wished he could sleep in, but he needed to go to school.

That, and Shiro would probably hunt him down, a finger-waggle and lecture at the ready.

He was in Matt’s clothes taking notes in advanced placement government, trying to pay attention to the PowerPoint presentation.

“Psst.” Keith chose to ignore it.

Lance flicked a tiny, balled-up piece of paper torn from the corner of his notebook at the side of Keith’s head (a direct hit), making him hunch further into his notebook.

He heard a slight tearing of paper and felt another pellet hit him in the same spot.

He was _trying_.

Keith turned to his assailant when he heard another tearing sound, scowling deeply at him while whispering a harsh, “Can you _not_.”

“But Keith, I’m bored!” Lance dropped onto his desk, still facing him. “And I’m trying not to fall asleep!”

He stared at him for a moment before returning to his notes. “Not my problem.”

Another paper ball hit him, but this time on his cheek.

This was a test, Keith inhaled. Lance was just prodding him like the imbecile he was. There was no need to get angry about it—

The next one hit the side of his nose. If he had a pencil in his hand instead, it would’ve snapped.

“ _Keith_.” Shut up, Lance.

“ _Keeeeith_.” Just. Shut. Up.

“Keith?”

“Shut up! God, just shut the hell up,” he snarled, glaring at Lance. The class went quiet and the boy next to him held a hand tightly to his mouth in an attempt not to laugh.

He looked to see his teacher standing there, not amused, and realized who exactly he had snapped at.

“Keith, if you’re in need of an attitude adjustment, I can suggest detention,” she quipped. Lance was losing it in his seat, head hidden in his arms as his laughter escaped him in little sputters and hisses.

“You think that’s funny, huh? Well, both of you can see me after school. We can all laugh about it.”

“What?! I didn’t do anything,” Lance cried.

“Hah,” Keith smirked, writing in his notebook. He was still infuriated, but at least Lance got his own punishment.

* * *

 

“ _This is your fault_ ,” Lance whispered angrily at Keith from the other side of the room. School ended uneventfully and Keith had managed to avoid Shiro for today seeing as just the night before Matt put a Brillo Pad to his emotionally gaping insides and left him a void, unfeeling mess that might break at the slightest interaction with him. It didn’t mean he was unaware of the occasional texts he was getting from him. And Allura. With all of this finally getting to him, he really didn’t care about serving detention at this point.

“ _My fault? You wouldn’t_ shut up,” he countered as quietly as he could manage with his arms crossed, pointedly staring ahead this time. He was still determined to get out of this detention without any discrepancies, Lance be damned. “ _I hope you realize how much of a waste of time you are_.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, Lance,” their teacher asked aloud, nose buried in a magazine at her desk.

“N-Nothing,” Lance waited until she was fully distracted again to rear on him. “ _I’ll have you know, I am a godsend. I hate you_.”

Keith grinned. “ _Likewise_.”

“And I hate you both,” their teacher imposed as she turned to the next page. “I hope you’ve realized how much of a waste of time the two of you are—” Lance raised his arms at Keith. “—and that fact will hit straight home with this assignment I’m giving you. Specifically to the two of you. And only to you two.”

“What, are you kidding me right now?!” Lance tossed himself back into his seat, pouting. Keith was unphased by his luck, slightly relieved.

“Anything to get me out of detention,” Keith told her.

“Wonderful. It’ll be a group project—”

“Forget it. Keep me in detention.”

“Okay, it can’t be that bad.” Keith gave one good look at Lance’s face, seeing his eyebrows quirk up and down, and turned back to her, desperation screaming in his eyes.

“No. I will take detention. For the rest of the school year.”

“Seriously, Keith?”

“For the rest _of my life_.”

“ _Keith_ —”

“Give me detention or give me death.” Lance agreed with a, ‘ _Yeah. Same_ ,’ and their teacher pinched the bridge of her nose as they high-fived, trying to remember her breathing exercises.

“Grow up. It’s a group project and you won’t be able to get out of it. I’ll e-mail the details later today and expect you to get on it immediately. You can leave.” Lance shot out of the desk with a whoop and Keith was the first one at the door, taking a deep breath as he unlocked his phone on the way out.

_4 unread messages from Shiro_

Alright, here goes nothing.

_Shiro: Hey, you think we can hang out tomorrow after school? Just us? Allura’s got her club meeting ):_

The text from last night he ignored. It kick-started his heart. He could barely remember the last time they hung out. Just the two of them. He swallowed as he scrolled down.

_Shiro: Are you in school? I haven’t seen you around._

_Shiro: I swear to god, if you’re skipping._

_Shiro: Was it the Brisk, Keith? Is that it? You know that’s not a valid excuse to ignore me._

_2 unread messages from Allura:_

_Allura: Can you take care of the toddler today? You know how utterly lost he is by himself lol_

_Allura: He’s hunting you down. You’ve brought this unto yourself_

Oh god, Keith blanched, reading the last message.

“If I didn’t know any better, Shiro seems more like ‘annoying boyfriend’ than ‘best friend,’” Lance mumbled over his shoulder, reading along, startling him.

“ _Go away_.”

“What’re you talking about, _partner_? We can’t part ways ‘til we get this project done,” he waggled his brows at him, keeping up with Keith’s pace. “You know what I noticed in these past couple years of our friendship? You walk so angrily.”

“Lance, we’re… _friends_. I tolerate you, but please,” Keith begged silently to the sky. “Can it wait?”

“If you want we can work at my place,” Lance exclaimed, ignoring Keith’s distress. “Disclaimer: I have a Spanish mom and there are screaming, snot-nosed children who will rob you of your sanity.”

“Lance included?”

Lance frowned, “Hey, that’s not nice,” sounding hurt.

“Why are you doing this?” Keith asked as they stopped at an intersection, staring him down from the corner of his eye. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Nah. I just wanted to ask—wanna go to homecoming,” he blurted out, looking at the blinking red hand on the crosswalk signal, hands in his pockets.

Keith scrutinized his nonchalance. “Shiro put you up to this, didn’t he?”

“Ahahah, you got me.” Lance held his hands up, not ashamed of being found out. “I guess he really can’t do anything without his best friend.”

He ignored that. “What about you? You going?”

“Yeah. S’why I asked,” Lance left it at that, not looking at him.

The crosswalk indicated that it was their right of way, but an old red Silverado, pulled up onto the curb in front of them, blocking their path.

“Hey, _best friend_ ,” Shiro leaned out of his window, leering. His “innocuous” grin almost made Keith shit himself. “Been looking everywhere for you. Was wondering about you. Thought you were dead or something. You know, don’t mind me.”

“ _Oh my god_.” Keith wished his soul had the capability of leaving its physical vessel.

“Keith, I thought _we_ were best friends,” Lance squawked, truly offended.

“Yeah, Keith, aren’t we best friends?” Shiro tutted at him and Keith could feel his face heating up. “So are you getting in, or what?” Lance looked at Keith curiously.

“Or what,” Keith didn’t hesitate to say, looking back at Lance. He didn’t trust himself to be alone with Shiro when his feelings were acknowledged by the known universe (and now Matt, of all people). Maybe he could take advantage of the fact that Lance was here? “Lance and I were kind of on our way to do school-related things, _right Lance_?” Oh god, he sounded like he was pleading more than confirming. Lance would never let him live it down.

Lance had opened his mouth to say something, probably to revel in Keith’s groveling, but looking past Keith made him shut him up.

“Uh, we could always start tomorrow,” he fumbled, a hand clasped to the back of his neck, not really looking at Keith. “I’ll see you around?”

“Wait, we can give you a ride,” Keith really didn’t want to get in the truck with Shiro. Alone. With Shiro. He still felt awkward and unsure of himself. 

Keith turned back to see the discontent clear on Shiro’s face.

Or maybe not.

“It’s cool, I’ll just head over to the restaurant. My ol’ man could use the extra help. Hasta la later!” Lance turned and headed back into the direction they came from, waving.

Shiro gave Keith a once-over that made his insides simmer. “Nice clothes.”

“You know, we didn’t have to make Lance walk,” Keith pointed out ignoring the comment. The guiltless shrug he received tilted him.

“I asked earlier if we could hang out, remember? But _someone_ wasn’t responding. Come on,” he beckoned him to get in and Keith was already panicking.

“Oh, wait—” Shiro got out of the truck, holding the door open for him. “Update: the passenger door’s jammed, so this is how you’re getting in and out until it’s fixed.”

“Get a new car,” Keith told him as he had no choice but to crawl through the driver’s side.

“Never,” Shiro followed him in. “I am not looking at another four-wheeled vehicle until Kaltenecker finally gives out.”

“Hopefully, the next thing you drive gets a better name.”

The thought alone made Shiro gasp. “Kaltenecker’s a beautiful name! Don’t listen to him, baby,” he cooed, rubbing the dashboard. “This is why he walks everywhere.”

“I don’t, because I can’t even go five minutes into the walk without you popping up and offering me rides.”

“Yeah.” Shiro admits, smile never faltering.

Keith’s smiling, too, but he doesn’t know where else he could take the conversation. He’s running out of banter.

“So,” Shiro begins. Keith’s watching him as he’s driving. He looked so casual doing it one-handed, with his arm slung on the back of the giant seat they’re sharing, almost reaching Keith. He never takes his eyes away from the street like the vigilant driver he is. It painted a picture of cool that Keith wished he had, but ultimately it’s just cute boys and beat-up trucks that get to him. He used to think a truck wasn’t a befitting vehicle for Shiro until he actually saw him in one that it did something to him post-puberty. “Why were you playing hooky today, hm?”

“What?” Keith was distracted, seeing the flex of Shiro’s arm as he made a turn. “I wasn’t. Lance McLame landed me in detention.”

The way Shiro laughed made him swoon internally. “Excuses. And aren’t you guys friends?”

“It wasn’t my fault. He just knows how to push me,” he muttered. His skin crawled at the slightest graze of Shiro’s fingertips.

“You can’t start messing up now, Keith. It’s our last year. You gotta stay focused, keep your marks up to get into a good school. Possibly somewhere far from here.”

“Possibly somewhere you’ll be?” Keith’s heart stuttered (could it not shovel out embarrassing things from his mouth? Please and thank you.). He just couldn’t help asking. He didn’t know what kind of validation he was looking for, but they were alone and he really hoped for something.

The truck finally came to a stop beside Shiro’s house and he faced him.

“My father wants me to go to New York for pre-med. I’m not sure about me going too far,” he said it like he believed it, then sent a roguish smile Keith’s way. “It wouldn’t hurt to have you around, though.”

As happy as he could be about the idea, Keith felt slightly disappointed.

They kicked off their shoes at the door when they entered, climbing upstairs to Shiro’s room. He sat at his designated spot at the foot of the bed, rubbing his palms against his lap as Shiro took his place at his desk.

Something about being confined in a bedroom with him made Keith more anxious.

He was thankful that they preoccupied themselves with homework, but even that didn’t last long when they found themselves watching each other.

“You know, I think it’s been a while since you were at my house last,” Shiro gripped the arm rests, twisting his chair from side to side.

“Y-Yeah. We just never had the time, I guess.”

No, that wasn’t the reason. Keith stopped coming by since the end of his junior year. He knew he couldn’t come into this room without thinking about all the times Allura must’ve sat in this exact spot he was this very moment or all the things that might’ve possibly taken place, in the cover of night. Kept secret within these four walls. Surrounded by the warmth of blankets and breaths. Small utterances of sweet nothings that would never mean the same toward him other than in dreams that woke him up in the middle of the night and made him weak.

Now, he was here once again, amidst a room of subtle familiarity from his childhood memories that felt so foreign to him. Like an old friend he had to go through the motions of reacquainting with after years of life between them.

It squeezed his heart in a vice.

“Keith,” he was fumbling with the sleeves of Matt’s jacket when he looked up, flustering when Shiro rolled until he sat in front of him. “I’m worried about you. As much as we spend time together, it doesn’t feel enough.”

“We see each other like every day,” Keith tittered nervously. The possible implications were many in his head, torturing him.

“You’re different,” Shiro said, watching him closely. “I’m not that clueless. Allura and I may be with you every other day, but it doesn’t mean you’re with us. Something’s up. Could you please tell me?”

He was urging him to open up. This was an opportunity being handed to him on a silver platter. This was his chance to get every little thing off his chest. _Confess, admit, attest, apologize_ , he heard Matt telling him in the back of his mind. If he didn’t, it’ll get worse. He knew that.

“Keith.”

But looking into those fond eyes made it more difficult. Keith didn’t want those eyes to change. He didn’t want their friendship to end the moment he acknowledged his insecurities about him. He didn’t want to see the shock and soon-to-be disgust on Shiro’s face. The way things were now is what Keith would fight tooth and nail for to preserve. Nothing could change that. Not even his own selfish feelings.

“Keith?” Keith almost shied away from Shiro’s fingers tangling into the hair curving along his neck.

“I don’t know what I want,” he warbled on a half-truth, pressured. “I don’t know what I want to be. And it’s been eating at me and I don’t know what to do,” now he felt like he was working himself up, but, hey, he had to feed Shiro something. “I don’t really have a plan after we graduate. I can’t think of anything that I have going for myself and I can’t help like there’s not enough time. I’m just an advanced honor student without a calling, I guess, hah…”

Shiro was thankful to hear him, smiling softly. Keith’s being screamed in relief as he leaned back an inch, but Shiro never took his eyes off him.

“That’s what’s been eating at you?” Shiro’s scratching fingers made him quake, but he nodded. “Was this really something to hide from me?”

“I’m sorry,” Keith recited mindlessly with a quivering smile. “I-I’ve been a little lost.” Shiro returned the smile.

“I can say I know how that feels. Not knowing what to do. We can figure out what you want to be together,” he supplied, his fingers tangled themselves further into Keith’s hair, only to comfort him.

“You know you’re my best friend.” _And nothing more._ The words robbed him of any small hope, like they always had. Keith stomached it with a smile, like he always did. As if spoon-feeding him this truth wasn’t poison Keith was painfully aware of.

“I hope you do,” he joked. Shiro removed himself from his personal space, to his relief (disappointment?).

“You should stay for dinner. Mom’s been asking about you. She’d be happy to see you.”

That night Shiro’s mother sent him home with a care package of left-overs, reprimanding her son for, ‘ _letting my sweet Keith starve, look at him, how could you!’_

Of course, Shiro walked him to the steps of his house afterward. As fate would have it, Keith lived right across from him. There were occasions where they would happen to step out around the same time, each other’s face the first thing they’d see leaving in the mornings. When they were younger, Shiro would fetch him to join the family for breakfast before going to school.

Keith was well aware that he had been the one to distance himself from Shiro. All Shiro ever knew was to reach out, in any way possible.

He was gifted that kind of heart, but the ugly depths of him wanted to squander it in the hopes that then everything would be easier as time kept turning.

If only he could make it so.

Keith took his time unlocking the door to his house, greeted with silence. On the fridge was a note scribbled with the promise of precooked dinner within it and return from a brief business trip.

* * *

 

_1 unread message from Matt:_

_Matt: I want my clothes back you invalid :)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigh, just keep yourself backed into that corner, Keith. It'll do ya wonders.


	4. Yeah, He's Cool with Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith gets to know Lance a little more. Lance just wants to be down with it. With them. And Matt is just being himself. Like always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a dash of Klance and a pinch of Sheith.

“So you couldn’t do it, huh?” Matt’s voice sniped from Keith’s earbuds, eliciting a groan from him. He was home alone and his aunt wouldn’t be back for a few days and he couldn’t sleep, not when he remembered the lingering feeling of Shiro’s touch and this whole pining thing was actually becoming more upsetting than it had to be because—

“I’ll take that as a, ‘ _No_.’”

“Can we talk about something else?” He rubbed his hand along his face, feeling just how sleep-deprived he had been even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to rest.

“Keith. You’re the one who called, and I had assumed that this is _exactly_ what you wanted to talk about. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“That’s not—”

“ _Tell me I’m wrong_.” The line was silent until Keith had the decency to let out a humbling sigh.

“I’m scared,” he admitted (nothing new), curling the wire connected to his phone around his finger staring at the static popcorn of his ceiling, unable to help resonating with 90’s teenage girls ranting about some stupid crush over the landline even if he was a couple decades beyond their time.

“You don’t have to rush into it, either. It’s a scary thing, yeah, but just get comfortable with it. Prepare yourself in whatever way you can. Maybe you should hang out with other people more. It might help.”

Keith turned onto his side to check the time on his nightstand. “Can I come over, then?”

“What, _now_? This late at—well, this early in the morning?” With how amused Matt sounded, he didn’t seem opposed to the idea.

“I have to bring your clothes back, don’t I?” Keith sat up, a smile taking shape.

“Am I hearing the words _wake and bake_?”

He held his phone in one hand, keeping the length of the cable in mind as he tugged on his high-tops and kicked his toes into the floor for a better fit. “More like, _still woke to toke_ , but you get the idea.” Then swapped his phone to the other when he pulled his windbreaker on one sleeve at a time.

“Delete that godforsaken word from your vocabulary and I’ll see you in my backyard.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He made sure he had the right notebooks and binders for today before shoveling Matt’s borrowed clothes into his backpack and snatching a beanie on his way out. “Be there in a bit.”

He backtracked into his room and picked up his board as an afterthought, deciding it was cold enough.

* * *

 

Matt left the gate open for him and Keith made his way around the back as discretely as he could. His friend was seated cross-legged in the chair already clearing a bowl when he noticed him.

“Bout time,” he huffed, setting the glass on the table and reclining. Keith took the seat closest to him— “I repacked it.” —and took little time to reach for the glass and lighter.

“I had to skate here,” Keith told him as the lighter stalled to ignite under his thumb. “I don’t live down the street.”

“I don’t invite you here to give me this ‘tude… dude,” Matt chuckled and jabbed a finger at him. Keith rolled his eyes almost instinctively.

“No yeah, you host these little pity party threesomes just for you, me, and my pathetic self.” He finally got the lighter to match and quickly contemplated clearing the bowl in one hit. In afterthought, “Sometimes your sister, too, if I’m feeling self-deprecating enough. Ah, I’m gonna regret this in a few hours.”

“We should caffeinate, then.” Keith made a face at that.

“ _No way_.”

“Don’t blame me when you pass out in class.”

“I won’t.” Although he knew he would do that very thing the moment he found himself in a desk.

“ _Right_.”

“I don’t really want to talk about Shiro or Allura,” Keith rested his cheek against his hand, getting to the obvious matter at hand. “But what you said earlier seems like the best course of action.”

“Yeah, try to involve yourself with other people—Wait a minute—aren’t you hanging out with that guy? You know… _that guy_? The one you were all over?” Matt sprung out from his lax state.

“Lance? And can you not make it seem like that? I was _drunk_.” The heat in his cheeks resonated with the mellow of the high. He felt underwhelmed and unbothered, however, propping his chin on his hand and watching Matt’s toothy smile through droopy eyes.

“Whatever you say. Shoulda seen the look on his face, though. It was like he didn’t know whether to feel blessed or cursed. Fucking classic.”

“I wouldn’t know; all I remember is throwing up everywhere and crying.” In retrospect of that night, Keith laughed at himself. It was better to laugh than mull over what it truly entailed. And he knew Matt meant well.

They stayed outside and continued to smoke until they saw the sky lighten, and Keith quietly deposited Matt’s borrowed clothes inside before they left with Katie.

* * *

 

He slept through his morning classes— _Indica’s_ doing— there wasn’t much to highlight relevant other than Lance infuriatingly prodding him and piling stationary on him in one of their shared classes when their teacher was occupied. He couldn’t have been bothered.

In fact, on the comedown, he sought Matt out during their free period to maintain the high. Shiro had observed him intently throughout the class period they’d shared, but didn’t mention anything about his behavior, so he guessed it had been without consequence. Smoking helped him deal with being around Shiro, to his surprise. His high internalized his conflict. Every sharp sensation that came with hearing him, seeing him felt like muted pokes, kinda like the way Lance had poked his cheek to get his attention, and the cold sweat of anxiety had melted away, swathing him in warmth.

This time when Shiro offered him the usual lift, Keith let indifference wreath his voice. He had averred refusal until it was agreed that Lance would come with him wherever he needed to be for their group project and knew Shiro would have no choice but to say yes. He felt in control like he had always been. Like he _should_ have been. He felt empowered.

He felt damned good.

He also knew he wouldn’t by the time he sobered up, fully aware of Shiro’s expression and mannerisms as he thanked his best friend with a dab of hands and promised to study with Allura for their upcoming tests soon.

Lance suggested to work in Rumba Cubana, the restaurant Keith inferred his family owned. It was there that Keith met Lance’s father and uncle with firm handshakes and boisterous laughter, all one-sided (he realized the overbearing personality was hereditary) and when they situated themselves in a booth that squeaked as they slid in, Lance conversed with his uncle in what Keith knew was Spanish. He didn’t bother to interpret beyond what third level language classes taught him, which was revealingly not enough.

With cheeks rubbed red with whatever they (mostly his uncle) laughed about, Lance’s focus finally returned to Keith. “Sorry about that, you know how family gets. Well, they’re like that all the time. I won’t hear the end of it from ma, though.”  

Contrarily, Keith wouldn’t really know. Living solely with a distant aunt was a quiet affair and he never had much of a family to begin with, but he didn’t bother saying it aloud. Then again, he was still high enough to not care.

He shrugged, pulling out the worksheet their teacher handed specifically to them. “S’alright. I never noticed you ‘til Matt’s party a while back.”

“Yeah, the fam moved here from Florida after my dad got the work visa and started this up,” Lance gestured to their surroundings. “It’s been roughly two years, I think? Time flies, dude.”

Lance was a tall kid. His long legs reached the other side of the booth, sneakers incessantly tapping against the floor by Keith’s as they worked. Not like Keith never noticed his height before whenever he had to slightly tilt his chin up as he spoke to him, something that inherently annoyed him.

The project wasn’t necessarily a grievance, since it was a getting-to-know-your-partner deal. With Matt’s advice in mind, Keith saw it as an advantage to focus on someone new for once. Lance was annoying to an extent, always digressing from Keith’s scripted questions, but Keith was beginning to get comfortable with him despite him being insufferable. When they finished the silly questionnaire, Lance was floundering for something to talk about, knowing well that he was trying to make a friend out of him. Keith silently appreciated that.

“Hey, since I know you have like zero friends—shut up for a second,” Lance was about to open his mouth to dish back his own insult when Keith held up his hand. “What I just said, right? Since that’s the case, wanna meet some friends of mine?”

“First of all, _wow Queef_.” Queef? That made him snort and Lance smirked. “Friends of yours? I don’t know. One of you is enough.”

Keith leaned closer to quietly say, “Well, it’s also an invitation to smoke, so—”

By the way his eyebrows shot up high and the hesitance at the implication, eyes shifting around to see if his father or uncle happened to hear the words, Lance’s reaction was obvious.

“Just an option, you don’t have to unless you don’t want to. Up to you, really. I just thought… maybe… it’d be cool that you meet them—” Keith saw Lance’s smug little smile growing wider and wider. “Okay fine, forget whatever the fuck I just said, then.”

“No, no,” Lance laughed. “That would be pretty chill. I’m down.”

As they got up to leave, Lance’s uncle yelled from across the restaurant, “ _Oye, no te demores, hijo. Y cuidado con ese chico, eh? El tiene una cara bonita que te arruinar_ _á_. _HEH!_ ”

Lance pushed him to the entrance more insistently as his uncle’s wheezing cackling followed them out.

* * *

 

The walk to Keith’s was at least bearable with their fragmented conversations. Lance took his time mapping out this end of the suburbia from the unfamiliar turn all the way up to his front steps. He also noticed Shiro’s truck over his shoulder, parked at the house behind them, but kept whatever thought to himself as they entered.

“Here it is, hole sweet hole.” Keith dropped his bag and board where they stood and continued down the hall into the kitchen. He opened his fridge, and, noticing Lance hesitated at the door, hollered, “You thirsty?”

“Uh, yeah,” Lance’s voice reached him and then he finally appeared at the kitchen’s entrance.

“Mountain Dew or Pepsi?”

“Got any _Brisk_?” Lance grinned. Keith rolled his eyes. “By the way, your parents’ out or something?”

“I, um, don’t have any,” Keith finally decided to say.

“Hey, I was joking, that shit’s gross—”

“Parents, I mean. I don’t have parents.” The lack of noise from all around his house became apparent to him. He didn’t like it.

“It’s not just me, though. I live with my aunt, but her job takes her everywhere, so yeah, uhm…” The words had fallen out of his mouth and he could feel an awkward burn creeping up behind his ears.

“Oh.”

 _Oh_. Not like that, “ ** _Oh_** _, dude I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to strike a chord there, or something. Now I feel like an ass for bringing it to your attention,” oh_ that was usually given before the awkward treading on their sheepish part.

It was actually an, “ ** _Oh_** , okay. Pepsi’s fine,” _oh_. Oh, as in it was all really fine, _oh_. Like there was nothing to feel sorry about there, _oh_. That shouldn’t change anything, _oh_.

Keith tossed him a can and side-eyed him, seeing nothing but a candid face. “R-Right. Make yourself comfortable. I’ve got some stuff to grab.”

He slipped past Lance, and, with a thought, he turned back and told him, “There’s a couch you can sit on—obviously, as you can see. Ugh, forget I said that. Just—be _homey_ , or something. I don’t know.”

“Homey.” Lance parroted, cracking the can open. “Got it.”

Keith turned away as soon as he saw Lance’s affirming smile.

He came back downstairs when he found what he was looking for, a small wooden chest in his hands. Lance’s eyes were glued to the box even when he sat down next to him and set it on the glass table in front of them. Lance had hovered closer as soon as he made to open it, taking in the paraphernalia.

“Oh, we’re actually doing this,” Lance uttered nervously as he watched Keith pull out a Ziploc bag filled with nugs of bud and his grinder. “We’re really doing this.”

“I’m just rolling a joint before Matt and Katie come over,” Keith told him, matter-of-fact. “No smoking yet.”

Lance reclined on the sofa—loveseat, actually. Lance had to man-spread so his shins wouldn’t press against the table, which left no space between them—as he placed two decent-sized nugs in his grinder. A sigh made Keith turn.

“Nervous, man? Like I said—you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I know, it’s just. Don’t wanna get caught you know? Not that I’m scared or anything. I’ve had my residency since I first came to the states along with applying for my citizenship before moving here, and all—it’s a misdemeanor, y’know—that’s grounds to revoke it and stuff. If my ma even found out I was doing this, she’d lose it and—god, I’m—” Lance had a firm hold on the armrest.

“I understand why you’d be scared—”

“Didn’t I _just_ say that I _wasn’t_ scared?”

“Right. Whatever. Like I said. You don’t have to. Whatever makes you comfortable, okay? You don’t have to prove anything to me or try to impress—”

“Impress _who_? _You_? Pshh, who said I was trying to impress anybody?”

“Can you let me finish?” He snapped. “Sheesh, whether or not that’s the case, my point is that no one’s pressuring you. We’ll be smoking in here, if that makes you feel any better. Besides, my friends will (eventually) like you just the way you are. Maybe. I don’t know about Katie.”

“Katie?” Lance perked up.

And just like that, Keith didn’t bother, returning to his work.

Lance gave up on badgering about this Katie girl, curiously observing him over his shoulder as Keith rolled the grinded herb into the paper wrap, licked the edge, and rolled again. There was something therapeutic about the menial task now opposed to how much of an arduous task it was when he first started. Matt always appreciated Keith’s precision, appraised him for rolling a joint better than he ever could.

He was stuffing it some more, using the stylus from his long lost 3DS to stuff in more weed when his door banged opened.

“NOBODY MOVE!” Lance almost made him bend or tear or drop the joint—hell, probably do all three—from shooting straight up with a yell.

“Dude!” Keith made to swipe at Lance for almost fucking up his good work

“Fuck that. Nuh-uh, I’m out, Kogane. **_Out_**.”

“It’s just Matt, calm the fuck down!” Keith then yelled, “Matt, how many times have I told you not to do that?”

“How many times do I have to tell you to lock your door, you ingrate? You’ll thank me some day,” Matt sounded from the hall. He strolled into the living room with his hands in his hoodie, smiling like he just ate shit as he pushed his glasses back up his nose. “Hello~”

“Whatever, fuck off.” Keith would gladly make him eat dirt if he could.

Katie followed her brother into the room, unaffected. She perched in the lone recliner clutching a book as Matt sat on the empty couch perpendicular to them. He was all smiles as he regarded Lance.

“Nice to see you again, Sir Lancelot. No, really.”

“Yeah, s’up,” Lance said lowly, more gruff. “Just Lance, is cool.” _Oh god._

“Alright, Just Lance.” Katie snickered. Keith couldn’t help huffing under his breath as Matt continued to press Lance. “You down to smoke with us?”

“Y-Yeah! I mean, hell yeah—” Lance’s voice cracked embarrassingly and he coughed to cover it up. _Too late, Lance,_ he thought. _We already heard you. You’re done._  “I mean… Uh, yeah. I’m down, or whatever.”

“Dude, remember what I said,” Keith started. “You don’t—”

“I said I’m down.”

Oh, Lance was actually serious.

“Alright… You don’t wanna just dive in on your first time, though.”

“What do you mean? I’ve totally smoked before.” Keith looked at Lance, saw his pointed stare.

“ _Really_? _Wow_ , Lance, what a _surprise_.” Oh, he knew _exactly_ what was going on here. If Lance wanted to do this, Keith wouldn’t stop him. What a lame-ass.

“Huh,” Matt hummed as he rummaged through his backpack for his bowl. “That’s awesome! You’ll keep up with us, right?”

“Uh, _duh_.”

“I have to warn you,” Keith emphasized, tossing his baggie to Matt so he could pack his bowl. “We smoke a lot. And I mean _a lot_.”

“Oh yeah?” Lance appeared to not bat an eye. “Bet.”

* * *

 

“Hey, Keef. Get it? _Keef_?” Lance was dead weight against the loveseat, regarding his surroundings. Or on the verge of passing out. Keith wasn’t sure.

“Yeah?” Keith smirked, making to pass Matt’s beautiful pipe to him. He had to wave it in his face. “C’mon buddy, we’re still going. Whatever happened to _keeping up_?”

At that, Lance snatched the pipe and lighter from him with sluggish movements. “Fuck you, Keef.”

Matt was chortling diagonally from them. “Fuck you, Keef,” he repeated.

“Matt, shut up. Just Lance, you wish.”

“No, no, but. Hey, Keef,” Lance said again.

“Yes, Lance?” Keith watched Lance trying to flick the lighter on over the bowl, but his hand was trembling. He decided to end his misery and light it for him, directing him to inhale on his word. He took a long draught and coughed it all out, prompting Keith to pat him on the back.

“So you guys lived here since you were kids, right?” Lance sounded weak.

“Uh-huh.”

“You’ve known each other for that long?”

“Uh-huh,” he drawled.

“Holy shit, that’s insane. This place is so— so put-together.”

Keith shrugged. “My aunt has a lovely house, I guess.”

“No, I mean, this town. It’s all so nice. I used to live in this city called Tamarac. It used to be this fifty-five-and-up kinda place back in the 70’s.”

“That whole state seems like a fifty-five-and-up place. That’s where the rich old people like to go to die, or something,” Matt said, taking the pipe from Keith.

“Yeah, like, it really wasn’t family-oriented until a decade after that. But that’s not what I’m trying to get at. What I’m trying to say is that—” Lance needed a moment. They waited patiently. “It was boring. There was really nowhere to go. Nothing much to do unless it was a forty-five-minute drive away or the beach. But you guys? You can drive up to New fucking York in as little as an hour. You could find yourself in any other state within a day. There’s places all over to crawl to. A lot to do.”

“You say that now,” Katie chimed up from her place, curled up into the recliner, nose-deep into her novel, already reaching its end. “But if you stayed here long enough like the rest of us have, you would run out of things to do, too. This place would feel too small and not enough, too.”

“You’ll get bored and trapped anywhere if you stay long enough,” Matt agreed with a nod, gesturing with the pipe in his hand like a middle-aged man who wears ascots and robes. “It's in our nature, man. To travel. But we've become so complacent.”

He’d have his own den, where he’d keep his own gin and vault, too. Keith decided to tell him that. “Alright, dad.”

“Anytime, son.” Matt took another hit. “You know that joint we had earlier? It was so perfect, kiddo. I’m proud to call you my son.”

Keith, held his hand to his heart as Matt returned the pipe, voice heavy with emotion. “ _Dad_ …”

“ _Son_ …”

“Dad?”

“Lance, you’re adopted,” Keith glared at him, their moment ruined.

“No, _you’re_ adopted,” Matt said. Lance looked between him and Matt, uncertain about what was just said.

“Huh,” Keith uttered in realization, as if it were never ever brought to his attention before. “You’re right.”

“But Keith,” Katie supplied, tapping her chin in mock ponder. “I thought Shiro was dad?”

“More like his _daddy_.”

“ ** _What_**?” Matt lost it there.

“Man, I’m hungry,” Lance spoke over whatever Keith could have said and Matt’s delirious laughter, practically yelling. “I haven’t really been to any eats around here.”

“YO,” that got Matt’s attention real quick, sitting upright. “Legends Diner. Let’s fucking go.”

 “Yeah? I don’t know if you’re aware, but we’ll need a car for that, dipshit,” Keith told him.

“Shiro?”

“No.” Keith gave him a look.

“Yes.” Matt stared back intently.

“Shiro… Shiro… Oh! You mean that guy with the junky truck?”

“Yes!”/ “ ** _NO_**.”

Matt’s eyes narrowed on him. “Keith, do you have food in this fucking house?”

“I’m not interrupting whatever the fuck Shiro’s doing just so he can play Uber and take us to Legends.”

“ _Keith_ ,” he gasped. “I am not that heartless. I’ll offer him a shake!”

“Shiro’s the only one with a vehicle, period,” Katie said to no one in particular. No one heard her.

“That’s it,” Lance began to steady himself up from his seat on fawn legs and walk gingerly to the door, the wall as his support. “Matt, forget Keef, we’re going!”

“Aye, my boy Lancelot!”

“Don’t encourage him!” Keith groaned. They were seriously doing this right now. _Right now_ , while they were all high.

Keith followed Matt and Lance out the door. The two were a sight, holding onto each other, pointing fingers into the other’s chest while they showered each other in ego-inflating compliments, all the way up to the front of Shiro’s house. Matt guided Lance into the bed of the truck to lay down, failing to quiet himself as he told Lance to shut up. Keith stood back arms crossed, watching Matt stumble to grab some pebbles and throw them at the upstairs window on the left. The only room that was lit in the house.

“ _Shiroooooooo_. Hey—” He threw another pebble, missing completely. “ _SHIRO_.”

“ _Matt, he has a fucking phone_!” Keith couldn’t yell, not when the whole neighborhood was asleep.

_1 unread message from Shiro:_

_Shiro: Is that you guys outside plaguing the innocent?  
                You: Just matt and yes. Sadly._

“ _Show your fucking face, SHIRO. I’m hungry!_ ” Matt tried his best not to yell (read: _tried_ ), throwing more pebbles. They clinked against the glass of Shiro’s window, the wall. One landed on the roof and rolled off in clunks that sounded too loud for Keith’s liking.

                _You: I’m so sorry._

The curtains parted and Shiro opened the window, trying to understand what exactly was going on. He saw Matt stop as he reeled his arm back to chuck another rock, Keith and Katie standing on the pavement across the narrow street and—

 _Who the fuck is that?_ Shiro’s eyes honed in on the body dumped onto the bed of his baby, recognized it was Keith’s new friend.

“ _The hell_?” Shiro hissed, conscious of the fact that his parents were sleeping just down the hall.

“Shiro! Take us to Legends,” Matt got right down to business, holding out his arms as if Shiro could pick him up from all the way up there. “Lance has never been! We gotta show him, Shiro!”

“What? _Now_?” Shiro looked at his phone. “It’s nine o’clock. On a _school night_.”

“I’ll buy you a shake. C’mon, don’t be a pussy.”

“Matt,” he warned. “Now’s not—”

“ _Pussy_.”

* * *

 

The arrangement somehow had Keith and Matt in the truck with Shiro, Katie happily lying on top of them while Lance had the truck bed to himself. Lance would poke his head in through the back window, whenever he felt lonely. Which was every five seconds.

“I don’t even have it in me to be upset,” Shiro said exhausted with them, keeping his eyes glued to the road. The small smile on Shiro’s face said otherwise. “You guys are something else.”

“Thanks, dad.”

“Don’t group me in with them. It was their idea.” Keith simpered. He was glad to have Matt between them.

“Shiro, you’re a cool dad,” Lance interjected from the window, reaching in to prop his chin on Matt’s shoulder.

“Uh, thank you… Lance?”

“Just Lance,” Matt corrected.

“Wait…” Keith started. “I thought you guys knew each other?”

Shiro’s face turned with confusion, “Uh, pardon?”

“Nope, not at all.” Lance backed out from the window.

“Lance, but homecoming—didn’t you ask—”

“I was actually joking about that, y’know,” Lance laughed outright, his voice almost snuffed out by the wind. This caught Shiro’s attention.

“About what?” Fuck.

Keith tried to say, “Nothing,” but—

“Asking Keef to homecoming.”

“Whoa, what, what, _what_?” Matt peeled into a full grin. His sister propped herself up on Keith’s lap with an identical smile.

“Really?” Katie urged, poking Keith. “Really?”

“I said **_no_** _, anyway_ ,” Keith cupped his face, mortified. “Shut up.”

“Oh, why did you?” Shiro asked. Matt smile widened even further.

“Here we fucking go. Shiro. I told you I don’t want to go,” he ground out.

“You never told me why,” he said bluntly. “What’s so bad about going to the last homecoming of the year?”

_Because I don’t want to see you dancing with her. I don’t want to see you holding her, her hand, her waist, her face. I don’t want anything to do with that godforsaken shit event because I can’t stand seeing you together, and it makes me feel like shit knowing that’s how I feel about you two. I just can’t be happy for you, because it makes me unhappy with myself, with this shitty situation. It just solidifies that reality. I just can’t. I can’t I can’t I can’t._

“Knowing Keith, I think those things cramp his style. They aren’t his thing. You want him to attend this dance because you feel like it’s the last year Keith has and there won’t be another. Keith can decide whether or not he’ll regret not going. So why would it matter to you?” Keith heard challenge in the words.

Shiro eyed Lance in the rearview for a moment.

“I just want Keith to get out there and have fun. With his friends,” Shiro replied in earnest, pulling into the diner’s parking lot.

“Yeah? And what if he **_doesn’t_**?” For some reason or other, Lance’s high had him rearing for a fight.

Matt whistled low. Keith was sobering up at this point. Some fucking how.

“Oh, would you look at that,” Keith said, “we’re here!” Shiro didn’t make any indication of opening his door: the only exit.

“Shiro, I’m fucking starving, **_move_** ,” Matt told him, nudging him out of the staring contest with Lance’s reflection. Katie followed.

Keith was the last one out, nearing Lance and holding him out before they went in. He felt along the fold of his beanie, for the other joint he wrapped, delicately pulling it out, lighter already in hand.

“You’re going to stand out here with me, watch me smoke this whole thing in one minute, and tell me what the fuck you were thinking,” Keith demanded, sparking the joint, the start of Lance’s timer.

“Just calling it like I see it,” was all he said. Keith wasn’t satisfied.

“Oh yeah, and what do you see?”

“My doofus-ass classmate has a selfish best friend.” That’s not it at all.

“You’re fucking blind. You don’t know shit. My friendship is strained, but that’s my own fault. Don’t try to analyze it for me.” He flicked off the excess ash.                                                                      

“Contrary to popular belief, there’s no shame in jumping out of your sinking ship, Captain. Especially, when you’re the only one in it.”

“Lance, I may like you, you may be cool with me, but now’s not the time for hightations. It’s none of your business.”

Lance ripped the joint out of his hand and took a long drag.

“Keith, don’t insult me.” He let the plume of smoke hit him in the face as Lance said it, the joint was shoved back into his hold. “I have a pretty good grasp on what’s going on here. I can’t do anything about it if it’s a ‘you’ thing. Don’t make it a ‘you’ thing. Tell me about it.”

“You don’t have to do jack shit. It _is_ a ‘me’ thing. And I have it under control. I don’t need you picking fights for me or defending my shit honor. However the fuck you see it doesn’t matter.”

As Lance muttered, " _Whatever_ ," Keith stomped on the roach and dug his toe into the pavement. Matt cupped the side of his face against the glass door, squinting, and questioned them with a thumbs up.

Keith shrugged and walked in with a stewing Lance as if he didn’t just chew him out.

But it worked.

Keith channeled back into his revived high and was devouring the menu with his eyes. Lance calmed down and was acting more like himself, prodding Keith with inane arguments (still salty). Matt had already ordered Shiro his Neapolitan milkshake and a basket of fries for himself, shoveling handful after handful into his ravenous mouth with his sister sneaking a fry or two in between.

The previous tension in the truck seemed to never exist.

* * *

 

“Lance seems like a decent guy.”

“Yeah, I’m glad you think so.” Keith was taken aback by that, but didn’t miss a beat.

It was just him and Shiro in the truck again. Shiro decided to drop Lance and the Holt siblings off at their respective homes since it was on the way from Legends. Matt had forgone Lance’s inflated ego and took a liking to him, exchanging contact info before Lance made it safely inside his home. Katie still needed some time to get comfy with “a personality of its own species.”

“No, I'm serious. You should have him around more.”

Keith side-eyed him. “He was taking names and wanting to kick your ass earlier, you know that?”

“He was right, though.” Keith gave him his full attention. “I was so adamant about having you go to this stupid dance with us because I didn’t want you to regret not doing anything before we graduated. I just want you to be a part of the little moments we have left before I leave. I didn’t consider what you actually wanted. It was selfish of me to push that onto you.”

He pushed his tongue against the back of his teeth.

“I’m sorry, Keith.”

“It’s okay,” he said after a while. “Really.”

They were almost home.

“So you and Lance, huh? I feel like I’m being replaced,” Shiro feigned hurt, pouting at a stop sign.

“You’re always telling me to go out on a limb for people, and _now_ you’re upset?”

“Upset? _Please_. I’m actually happy. He picks fights with you. I like him.” Keith laughed.

“That shouldn’t be a reason to like somebody.”

“I don’t know, it reminded me of the time when we were eleven and we’d play Red Soldier Blue Soldier, and you’d get so mad whenever you weren’t Red.”

“Damn right, Red Soldier was my favorite.”

“He was my favorite, too.”

“As much as you liked him, you would always let me be the Red Soldier. I wonder why that is?”

“Because I would’ve never heard the end of it.” Shiro parked Kaltenecker and held out a hand for Keith to take as he got out, pulling him into a hug that could’ve possibly put him into cardiac arrest.

“Your aunt’s still out, right?”

“Yeah,” he simply croaked out, to his embarrassment, extricating himself from Shiro’s space.

“Come over for breakfast tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

As he crossed the street to get to his house, trying to compose himself, he could’ve sworn he heard Shiro say, “Good night, _Keef_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally more content. A lot more content...
> 
> Pidge is just there to babysit, really. Maybe they'll be curious enough one of these days...
> 
> Where's Hunk? He'll pop up... maybe...
> 
> Also, sorry for my shitty Spanish. I'm Americanized as all hell.


End file.
